


Push, Pull, Break

by cyprith



Series: Modern Magic AU [3]
Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:29:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyprith/pseuds/cyprith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She pushes. He pulls. Together, they break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push, Pull, Break

**Author's Note:**

> queen-yuuko prompted: push and pull

_(Push)_

Diaval recoiled. “A gala? As in fancy dress and dancing? Not with _me_ , surely.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Maleficent regarded him over the edge of her computer screen. “You’ll be going in an official capacity, if that makes you feel any better.”

Until today, she hadn’t known an adult male _could_ contort his face in such a way. She’d only ever seen goblins pull that particular moue of distaste. Still, Diaval managed admirably.

Standing at the corner of her desk, he shook his head, lip curled and nose wrinkled. “You’ve never seen me at a proper do,” he said. “I’m terrible. Truly terrible. I’m about as fancy as… as—”

“A raven?”

“Exactly! I’ll embarrass you.”

Maleficent shrugged. “Fortunately, I do not embarrass easily,” she said, clicking ‘send’ on yet another email to the Carabas branch manager.

“I won’t know what to wear,” he warned. “I’ll wear something terrible.”

Considering that he’d once worn plaid pants and combat boots into the office, Maleficent didn’t doubt it. He surprised her every morning just by _bringing_ a tie, let alone attempting to wear it.

“I am almost certain you would, left to your own devices,” she agreed. “Which is why I’m coming with you.”

Diaval reeled, both hands clasped to his heart. With a dramatic gasp, he plummeted into the chair across from her desk.

“With me? _Shopping_?” he asked, spitting the word like poison. “Say it’s not so. Maleficent, please—say you wouldn’t do me like that.”

Despite the weight of her ever piling responsibilities, Maleficent watched her assistant practice his death throes on her guest chairs and felt a little lighter for it.  
  
“Yes, shopping. You’ll need a proper suit.”

“Oh no.”

“Yes.”

Sitting up, Diaval tried his best to look contrite and mostly failed. “I’m allergic. Can’t. Terribly sorry. I mean, I would, but _eh…_ you do _not_ want to see that rash.”

“A rash? Is that your best excuse?”

“It certainly is. Although—” he perked, waggling an eyebrow. “If you wanted, I’d be happy to go the full Emperor.”

Leaning back in her chair, Maleficent considered it. She could do worse than call his bluff.

“Very well,” she said at last. “I suppose I could attend as Godiva to match.”

“ _What?_ ”

Maleficent shrugged. “Well, it _is_ traditional.”

Unfortunately, Diaval knew her far too well. He caught the twinkle in her eyes, her poorly hidden smile, and nearly tipped off the chair laughing.

“Alright,” he said, collecting himself enough to stand. “Alright. You pick mine, I’ll pick yours.”

Maleficent shook her head. “I think not.”

“You’re smiling—you love it. It’s a brilliant idea!”

“No.”

But, of course, she _was_ smiling. And it certainly wasn’t the _worst_ idea he’d ever presented her with.

Diaval bounded for the door, presumably to exit before she mounted an appropriate defense.

“Just you wait,” he said, grinning something fierce.

And with that, he disappeared.

Ridiculous man, Maleficent thought, shaking her head.

Still. Worth a try.

—

_(Pull)_

Standing at the edge of her desk, Diaval frowned down at her. “Did you go home last night?”

“Of course,” she snapped, holding out a hand. “The expense report, please.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s of no consequence whether you do or not. Might I remind you, I sign your paychecks.”

Diaval pursed his lips. “Payroll signs my paychecks,” he said. Still, he handed the papers over.

A moment later, however, when she looked up, he remained. Maleficent resisted the urge to grind her teeth. “That will be all.”

Still, Diaval didn’t move. “When’d you last eat?”

_“Diaval_.”

She meant it as a warning, but then, she’d never been able to frighten him. Diaval remained just as he was, arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with a complicated mixture of fondness and irritation.

Maleficent did her best to ignore him.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “I am going down to that place on Fifth you like.”

“How you choose to spend your break is your business. I expect you back within the hour.”

“And _I_ expect to be back in fifteen minutes—whereupon, I might add, you will either eat with me, or I will shut off the power to this floor for the duration of _your_ break.”

At that, she actually stopped typing. Looking up, she met his gaze. “You wouldn’t.”

One hand on the door, Diaval grinned back at her, his dark eyes bright. “You gotta ask yourself a question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’”

Maleficient sighed. “Get out.”

“Well, do you? Do you feel lucky, boss?” At her look, Diaval laughed. “Right. Going. You want vinegar with your fries?”

“And a pickle, please.”

“Alright. See you in a bit.”

—

_(Break)_

Maleficent walked out of her office and into Diaval’s. She found him hunched over his desk and glowering at the computer screen, his tie abandoned on the floor and one hand fisted in his hair.

At the sound of the door clicking shut behind her, he startled, looking up. After today, the smile he offered her had long since worn ragged at its edges.

“Hey,” he said softly. Loosening his hand from his hair, he made some small attempt at shoving the tangled mess into order. “I should have this last fire out within the hour. Provided there’s not another _three_ just behind it.”

“I’m almost certain there is. Leave it.”

“Leave it?” He frowned. “But the lady from the magazine—”

Smiling, Maleficent shook her head. “It’s after five, Diaval, and this has been a truly miserable week. For once, I am going home. I suggest you do the same.”

“Oh. Alright then, I suppose,” he said. His voice sounded odd to her ears. Almost… _disappointed_. “Have a nice night.”

“You as well.”

As she walked away, she heard Diaval lean back, his chair creaking beneath his weight. Just before she reached the outer office door, he stood. “Maleficent.”

“Hm?” She turned. Diaval stood behind his desk, holding his tie in his hands like he didn’t recognize it, a sheepish sort of smile playing on his face.

“My sister’s got a place, about a half hour from the city. Couple dozen acres, all of ‘em outside altitude restrictions.” He chewed his lip, looking up at her from a curtain of messy hair and dark lashes, as close to _shy_ as she’d ever seen him. “You wanna go flying?”

Maleficent grinned.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Absolutely, yes.”

And Diaval’s whole face lit.


End file.
